Ginny and I: By Draco Malfoy
by SeZzA2
Summary: Draco's tells the story of how he fell in love with Ginny Weasley.....and how sometimes love doesn't conquer all.
1. Default Chapter

Hey everyone. This was inspired by the movie Final destination. It's not actually like it, but I watched it today and it got me thinking about death and this idea just kinda popped into my head. Read and tell my what ya think. :D

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GINNY AND I: BY DRACO MALFOY

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Prologue

I used to be afraid of dying. Terrified that one day might be my last. That it would happen at any time. I used to ask myself, would I be satisfied that I had fulfilled my life's purpose? Would it be an excruciating painful experience, the kind where the pain is so intense you'd rather die just to make it stop; or would it be a peaceful, almost spiritual experience. Some nights I would just lye awake worrying, because life is fragile right? One minute you could be having a game of quidditch with your teammates, and then the next you could quite easily be decapitated by a speeding bludger. 

That's what happened to a girl I used to know. Well, she didn't actually get hit by a bludger while playing quidditch. It was much more unfortunate than that. She was murdered. A perfectly innocent girl's life was taken from her. Of every single day I've walked this earth I'd have to count that as the most memorable. Not because I was rejoicing that someone I hated was dead….well, at the time I hated her, or thought I did. It was memorable because it was horrific. That's all there was too it. It was horrific. Nothing could have ever prepared me for what I saw. It wasn't that I hadn't seen death before. I had seen it a number of times, what with my father's line of………work. But all the murder victims I'd seen were killed using magic. This was a different story altogether. 

The memory still clings to me today, twenty years later.

It was the middle of winter, and it was the first night in two weeks that it wasn't snowing. Although it was below freezing outside, the night was clear and crisp, and I needed a walk down by the lake to take my mind off things. These things more specifically being my looming dooms day. Father was forcing me to become a death eater. I didn't want it. I was only sixteen years old. I thought myself to be an adult but as that day drew nearer I was feeling more and more like a scared little kid than I'd ever been. 

I strolled along, hands in pockets, listening to the snow crunch underfoot when I saw a crumpled form in the snow about ten feet away. As I came closer I could see a silky iridescent mop of red hair sticking out the top of her robes. I stood over her to get a closer look and my stomach gave a nauseating flip when I saw the state she was in. Dark red blood, so dark it almost gave into black, was pooled under her pale features and matted into her hair. There was other matter in the blood, but I think its best for anyone reading this if I skip describing that part.

I was in shock. Five minutes must have passed while I stood there breathing raggedly and shaking. She was obviously dead. Her brains were spilling out for Merlin's sake. I don't think trying to find a pulse would have proved anything that I didn't already know. It's funny how time escapes you at certain moments of crisis. I know I don't have any concept of time from the moment I found her until I woke up the next morning. I don't know how long it took for me to find help. Or how long it was until I finally stopped staring at the body bag sitting on the stretcher, waiting to be taken away so they could do whatever it is they do to people when they die. Time ceased to exist that night. But it sure as hell came back with a vengeance the next day. 

By the time breakfast was over, everyone knew. People all around were talking about how close they were to her; even those who wouldn't even give her the time of day when she was alive. It made me sick to watch them. Sure, it's okay to mourn, but mourn accordingly. If it had been me that had died I wouldn't want everyone pretending like I was the most perfect person in the world. I wouldn't want everyone to pretend like they loved me, like I was their best friend when I wasn't. And I knew half those people didn't even know anything apart from her name, and maybe a few other trivial things.

Now that I think back, I was just as bad as the rest of them. I felt like I had more of a right to mourn her death than any of them. Like they didn't understand who she was or what she was about the way that I did, when really, I knew just as much about her, if not less than they did. 

Anyway, time dragged throughout the day. People all around were whispering. Everyone wanted to know who did it. How they did it. Why they did it. Who found her. I sure as hell wasn't going to open my mouth and say I was the one. I didn't need the accusations to come flying towards me. Because that's what would've happened. If I had so much as opened my mouth it would be as good as a murder confession. All they saw in me was my name. Associating her name with mine in a murder, well. Let's just say if student vote were law – I'd be rotting in Azkaban as we speak. 

The funeral was nice, as funerals go. People cried. Her family was shattered. Nothing was the same. No one was the same. Even me. Especially me. I know I said before that finding her was the most horrific memory I have – but I think the funeral affected me more. I don't know why. It's one of those things you just can't explain. I'm not even sure how I stayed composed. On the inside I was cracking. That had never happened to me before. Never. But why had the fate of this girl affected me so much? It wasn't like it was my first traumatic experience in my life.

I was about to find out, because the strangest thing happened when I forlornly trudged up to my room that night. I walked into the room to find a red headed girl sitting on my bed sobbing. When she saw me her tears dried up immediately. She stared up at me with her haunting brown eyes and smiled weakly. 

"Weasley?" I asked shakily. "But you're…you're.."

Tears welled up in her eyes. "Dead," she whispered. 

I simply stared back. Strangely, I was not afraid, just a little unnerved by the whole scenario. Something told me that it was normal for a dead girl to be sitting on my bed talking to me. I swear I wasn't crazy. Just slightly out of touch. But I understood her. I knew exactly what she wanted me to do for her. 

"You want me to find who killed you, don't you?" I asked her. 

She nodded.

"Who was it?" I sat down hesitantly on the other side of the bed. 

"I don't remember," she sighed, "I need you to help me find out."

"Why me?" I already knew. It was because I was the one who found her. And I was the only one who could see her. Of course, at the time I didn't know this. But everything seemed to fit. Why she was here. Why she needed me. 

"You found me, Draco. I can't imagine how horrible that was for you. You need answers just as much as I do."

I'm not quite sure I agreed with her there. She was the one who was dead. I still had my whole life ahead of me, well, supposedly. She deserved to know who her murderer was more than I did, but I agreed to help her. When she smiled back at me, it was like a soft glow. I could feel the happiness radiating off her. It was weak through her pain. But it was there. I know this sounds corny, but it gave me hope. What for I don't know. But it did. And I knew then that she would have to leave eventually, and I wasn't sure if I wanted her too. 

So now I, Draco Malfoy, will tell you how Ginny Weasley changed my outlook on not only life, but also death. How I loved her. How I still love her. It's hard when you fall in love with someone you just can't have. Trust me, love does not conquer all. At least not death anyway. But I sure as hell wish it did. 

This is the story of Ginny and I. 

That's the prologue………………should I continue? Its different to my other two fics so I'm not sure if anyone will like. Lemme know alrighty

REVIEW!!!

~ SeZzA ~


	2. Chapter Two

Oh my lord it's been nearly a year since I updated. Oops, my bad! Busy busy gurl I have been. I started reminiscing bout how I used to write fan fics and then I was like………WHY NOT START UP AGAIN. Plus I've got a few reviews asking for me to continue. So I did………here it is………ENJOY :D

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Chapter Two

So it had been twenty four hours since the ghost of Virginia Weasley had asked for my help. Well, I'm not sure if ghost is the right term. She was definitely not alive though, that's for sure. Now something was wrong with this picture. She had asked for _my_ help. Me. Draco Malfoy. Son of the infamous Lucius Malfoy, Voldemort's right hand man. At this stage in my life, I had already learnt about death, pain and misery. They were possibly my father's most cherished word in the English language. And of course, anything a man cherishes, he will naturally try his best to teach his children about. And did he ever. 

My very first memory of my father is when I was all of three years old. I had wandered into his study by accident. Lucius was not pleased. And I was punished for it. Now tell me, what decent human being can justify performing an unforgivable curse over another? Let alone their three year old son. Yes, that was the first time I felt the wrath of Lucius Malfoy. Decidedly the worst though, was when he killed my mother. No, she was not sweet. And she sure as hell wasn't innocent. But she had loved me. She told me everyday of my life I was what kept her alive. I think Lucius was always jealous of that. It probably burnt him up inside that she loved me more than life itself, and that she hated him just as much. It's rather ironic actually, the one woman that taught me about the power of love taught me just as adequately about the power of hate. I think Lucius ' jealousy is what killed her. And is ignorance of course. He was stupid enough to believe she wouldn't die for her son. Oh, but she did. My own father tried to kill me in order to ruin my mother's life. But it didn't work. She jumped in front of me, straight into the path of Avada Kedavra. It was as simple as that. It wasn't until that day that Lucius' most cherished principles of death, pain and misery hit home to me. And I knew what it was like to feel pure hatred.

Perhaps it is because of my father that I had trouble coming to terms with why Ginny wanted my help. I knew all about he had manipulated and tortured her through Riddle's diary. How he had twisted an innocent and naïve little girl into a broken young woman. People were always telling me how much I looked like him. Everyone saw it. I'm sure she saw it. So how could she trust someone that reminded her so much of the man that tore her innocence away from her with such cruelty? I still don't really understand. But regardless, I really wanted to help her. We had one thing in common and that was our experience of how one man can ruin your life. And so I helped her. I'm not sure if I can say whether I spiralled upwards or downwards after that. I don't know where I'm spiralling now. Maybe I'll never know. 

Anyway, enough of my ramblings. Now you know how I felt about her asking me for help. When Ginny told me she had no idea who her murderer was, I was a little sceptical. 'How,' I thought. 'She was there wasn't she?' Well, obviously. I had a strange feeling she wasn't telling me something. So I confronted her about it. Nicely, well, as nice as I could get. You have to understand that I was already jaded at the young age of seventeen. Life had dealt me a difficult hand so I wasn't exactly a bunch of daisies. 

"Are you sure you don't remember Weasley?" I had asked her for the seventh time that evening. 

She shook her head just as she had done every other time I'd asked that question.

I chose my next words carefully. I mean, I didn't want to be too much of a bastard. Come on, the girl was still getting used to the fact that she had been murdered. 

I studied her. She looked perfectly tangible. Like I could just reach out and touch solid flesh. I refrained from doing so though. I didn't know what to expect. To me she seemed so real. If I had reached out and stroked her hair only to find my hand floated straight through her, I would've been freaked to say the least. I may have accepted that there was a dead girl hanging out with me, but I wasn't quite ready to get into the intricate details just yet.

She sighed quietly and looked at me sadly.

"Draco, I can honestly swear to you that I don't know who did this to me."

"I believe you Ginny," I replied with confidence. "It just feels like I'm hitting my head against a brick wall here. I don't know where to start. One minute I'm thinking, how can she not remember, and the next I'm telling myself I don't know what I'm talking about."

She smiled despite her sadness. "What do you mean you don't know what you're talking about? You're Draco Malfoy."

Her eyes were locked with mine. "Well, I've never, you know……" I diverted my gaze to the wall beside me. 

"Never what?" she prodded. 

"Died," I finished uncomfortably.

"Oh, I guess."

A few moments uncomfortable silence passed between us. 

"Well, there were a few strange things going on that week," she said quietly. 

"Like what?" I asked in a tone equal to hers.

She bit her lip nervously. "Well I guess you could say there were those who might have had…….a motive."

My head snapped up. This was what I wanted. 

"Can you tell me about it?" I asked her gently, trying not to push it. 

Ginny looked on the verge of tears. "It was a bad week for me," she muttered, bringing her hand up to wipe away a tear that had escaped. 

I smiled at her resignedly. I knew she wasn't ready to talk. She knew it too. 

I was going to bed. It had been one hell of a long day. Not that I would get much sleep. Then something dawned on me. 

"Where did you go last night?"

She looked at me before bursting into tears. "I wandered the castle," she sobbed, "I have nowhere, Draco. I don't know what to do with myself."

I then opened my mouth and possible said the most stupid thing I could've said. 

"Do you sleep?"

This made her cry even harder, "I don't know."

I felt my heart twinge. How could I have been so insensitive? Then I remembered. I was Draco Malfoy, duh. 

"Well, why don't you try?"

She looked at me disbelievingly, "Didn't you listen? I have nowhere. Even if ghosts, or whatever it is that I am do sleep, I have nowhere to go."

"Oh," I replied dumbly, "you can sleep with me if you want. "

As fast as her tears had come they stopped. She smiled weakly at me. I got into bed and lifted the covers for her to get in beside me. She walked over and I swear my heart was ready to break through my chest it was pounding so hard. I had no idea what to expect. But I soon found out. Her small weight moved the bed as she got in and lay down. I could feel the warmth radiating off her. Reaching out I pulled her to me, expecting my hands to slide right through her, but they didn't. She felt as real to me as anyone ever could. It was definitely strange, but her presence was comforting. 

Just as I was about to drift off to sleep se murmured, "There are only three people who had a motive."

"Who?" I questioned drowsily.

"Cho Chang, Professor Snape and Harry Potter." 

REVIEW BABIES :D……….xoxox


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